


Oh Deer!

by bunniemoon



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: And so is Reader, But we’ll find out why later, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I’ll add more tags later when I can think of what to put in here, M/M, Panic Attacks, Reader has a predetermined appearance, Reader is also a deer demon, Reader will have nickname, Slow Burn, This is baby’s first fic in a decade, alastor is in hell for a reason
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:27:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunniemoon/pseuds/bunniemoon
Summary: How did you end up here?You’d always tried to be a decent person in life, yet here you were in Hell — sporting some ridiculous antlers to boot. At least you managed to find a semblance of a home at this hotel.Now, if only the Radio Demon would leave you alone...
Relationships: Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Original Character(s), Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)/Reader, Charlie Magne/Vaggie
Comments: 84
Kudos: 597





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy!
> 
> I haven’t written a fic in like ten years, and I’m not really quite sure what possessed me to start writing this one. 
> 
> I hope y’all enjoy nonetheless! <3
> 
> (Also sorry if anything is funky with the formatting! I typed this on an iPad and have been struggling to make sure everything uploaded correctly.)

  


You were cold.

That was the first thing you could register as you struggled to regain consciousness. Wait, _were_ you conscious? You couldn't tell. You were too cold to think clearly. 

***

The mechanical beep was the next thing you could sense. It wasn’t as cold now, at least. Has time passed?

Where were you?

Now that you were warming up a bit, you could feel the pain, beginning in your neck and radiating down your body. Attempting to twitch your legs only seemed to make it worse. Everything hurt. Why couldn’t you open your eyes? 

There was a pressure on your hand, causing a dull ache to shoot up your arm. You couldn’t even make yourself wince, as if you’d lost control of all basic motor functions. A familiar voice caught your attention as someone squeezed your fingers.

“Baby, I’m so sorry.”

_…. Who?_

Oh!

That voice… it belonged to your boyfriend. 

That’s right. You struggled to work yourself through muddled memories.

Despite your distaste for large parties, especially ones that only existed to flaunt wealth, he had insisted you attend another one of his colleague’s weekly get-togethers. This time, it was a larger party than usual — a New Year’s party. You had always hated faking pleasantries with the rich assholes he surrounded himself with nowadays. He promised you that it was all to move up in the world, to find new opportunities; he was doing it all for you! But… as you watched him drink himself into oblivion once again, you couldn’t help but feel doubtful.

As usual, a fight ensued. You didn’t like arguing, but the more he’d drink, the more confrontational and aggressive he would get. It was almost a routine now… A fight, hiding in the restroom so no one would see you cry, then leaving early to drive home alone. He would normally crash at the party anyway and catch a ride home from another partygoer in the morning. Afterwards, he would profusely apologize to you for his behavior the night before, then things would settle back into normalcy for the following week as you were always maybe a little too quick to forgive...

So yet again, you had left upset.

But… you hadn’t quite realized how tired you were. 

The next sequence of events were mostly a blur: driving the winding back-roads home, your eyes drifting shut, a loud blaring horn, a crash… The world spinning around you, the cold. Your vision had been blurred and distorted, but the last thing you managed to see was a lone deer staring at you from the side of the road, unnervingly still and seemingly unaffected by the chaos of the wreck. Then, darkness.

The mechanical beep. The flimsy blanket covering your torso and legs. The uncomfortable mattress. _Oh._ You were in the hospital. 

Why couldn’t you open your eyes?

“It’s going to be okay… You’re going to wake up, and then I’ll do better. We’ll move back to our hometown if you want! Leave all this shit behind us. I’m so sorry sweetie…”

You were too tired to truly process his words. The darkness was inviting now, and you were so, so sleepy. Maybe a quick nap would be nice… 

Your boyfriend’s voice grew distant as you settled into slumber.

***

It was too hot. It was still winter, right? Maybe the hospital staff had turned up the heater?

Fatigue still affected your body, but you felt a vast improvement from the night before. In fact, you finally had the strength to open your eyes! Your eyelids fluttered.

Red.

Everything was so _red._ It hurt to look at. You immediately were forced to register the fact that you were no longer on a hospital bed or tucked into a thin blanket, and your eyes darted around in a panic. Rubble and dust surrounded you, and… was that blood? It wasn’t yours, a quick glance down your surprisingly unharmed body confirmed it. What happened to your injuries from the wreck? You still wore a hospital gown, except the pale blue and white fabric that was cinched around your waist with a neat ribbon was now adorned with blood spatter and dirt. 

Chunks of carcasses littered the wasteland around you, but none appeared to be distinguishable as human. Was this a nightmare? Despite the dull ache in your limbs, you seemed to have full control of your body as you sat up. You had never been able to lucid dream before... Maybe it was from all the painkillers? 

In the distance straight ahead, there was the skyline of a city. Every other direction you glanced was in ruin. 

A booming explosion nearby had you completely on your feet in seconds, hissing at the remaining pain. Even if this was a dream, your fight-or-flight was kicking in and, well… based off your aching muscles, you really were in no condition to fight. Screams pierced the air from behind you and that’s all it took for you to start weakly sprinting ahead towards the city, weaving a beeline through the debris. The laughter, gunshots, and explosions that followed seemed to fade the longer you ran.

It was so hot here...

Sweat trickled down your cheeks and your breathing was labored. Why did the city have to be so far away? Perhaps if you were in better health this wouldn’t be so bad, but as is you felt close to collapsing. Only the adrenaline pulsing in your veins pushed you to keep going.

Eventually the ruined buildings began to morph into intact ones. The roads and sidewalks grew somewhat more clear of dust and damage, although they still looked pretty rough. 

You seemed to be edging into what appeared to be a small business park now and — _oh, what the fuck was that!_

A gasp left your lips as you noticed actual monsters of all shapes and sizes walking along the sidewalk, entering and exiting buildings, looking at you… They only spared you quick, irritated glances before continuing on their way, so at least they didn’t seem particularly interested as you darted by. 

You kept running towards the skyscrapers, the city center. What else were you supposed to do? 

Somehow you managed to get into the heart of the city before you were forced to stop and catch a breath. The monsters absolutely swarmed the streets around you now, but none seemed to care as you doubled over, eyes screwed shut and hands on your knees as you wheezed from the run. You tried to compose yourself before shakily straightening up again. The buildings were so tall here, and the creatures that filled the roads and crosswalks were terrifying. Blood still coated the streets in messy splatters. The crimson sky only made you more nervous when you looked up and noticed the large pentagram that floated in place of the sun. 

This definitely landed in your top 10 list of worst nightmares you’ve ever had.

You turned towards the storefront window behind you, if only to take a private moment away from this hellish city and calm down. But of course, with your awful luck, you came face to face with another monster on the other side of the window. You couldn’t help but stare at it in shock.

It stared back.

It was smaller, average and human-sized, unlike some of the hulking beasts you’d encountered during your run here. On top of its head rested deer ears, accompanied by small antlers. You opened your mouth in surprise, and the monster mimicked you, revealing its razor-sharp canines. 

You began backing away from the window but for some reason you couldn't tear your eyes away. The monster did the same, a look of horror on its face. But... why would it be afraid of _you?_ Hurriedly, you raked a hand through your sweaty hair, stilling completely when your fingers bumped into something hard on top of your head.

_Wait… no._

The monster in the window matched your uneasy expression as you both brushed your hands along your antlers, and then ears. Together, you both watched each other drag your own tongues across sharp teeth. For the first time, you observed that it wore an identical hospital gown.

_That’s… me._

Probably the most intelligent realization of your life, but you had no chance to revel in it.

“Move, bitch!” 

Suddenly, monsters shoved and surrounded you at the window, and you finally registered the TV above you was running a news story that everyone seemed fascinated with. You were too cramped against the window now to escape, so your eyes were inevitably glued to the screen as well as a news reporter with a sharkish smile introduced the Princess of Hell.

…

Wait.

_Hell?!_

The crowd around you guffawed as the “Princess of Hell” introduced herself and her new passion project. You couldn’t possibly comprehend what was happening, especially when she began singing… A monster next to you was laughing so hard, it— he?— had to wipe a tear from one of his many eyes. Rehabilitating sinners at a hotel… What was so funny? No one else seemed concerned about being in “Hell”. _Of course not,_ you reasoned, _this is a dream after all._ You were still safe, in the hospital…

Or so you attempted to convince yourself as you stayed rooted in place through the remainder of the Princess’s air time on the news. 

All you had to do is wait to wake up.

Too distracted by your own racing thoughts, you didn’t even notice the radio static that crackled behind you.

  



	2. Chapter 2

  


A few days had passed since you ended up in Hell.

At least… you _think_ it had been a few days. Time was strange here, and the only indicator between day and night seemed to be a darkening of the crimson sky into something more sinister.

By what seemed to be day three, you were forced to come to terms with the fact that this wasn’t simply a dream. 

Unless you were currently breaking the record for the world’s longest, shittiest nightmare.

But you couldn’t remember ever dreaming so _vividly_ before. Hunger and dehydration had set in, and after you’d realized you ran all the way into the city with your feet clad only in a pair of thick socks from the hospital, your heels were too achey to barely walk for the following day. Never in your slumber had you felt so much lucidity to properly experience this level of pain. 

How you ended up here though… You couldn’t possibly understand. In life, you never did anything _irredeemable._ Or so you thought. Struggling to come to terms with your fate here had thrown you into complete distress, constantly toeing the line into a full-blown panic attack. It was a difficult to not break down and sob in the street as you reflected on what you must've done wrong in your past life, but it wouldn’t change anything now. Not to mention it was pretty unbecoming of a demon to cry.

A demon… That’s what you were now.

Just like all the other sinners in Hell.

You’d been sleeping under a fairly populated underpass, figuring safety in numbers among other homeless souls. Who was really safe in Hell, though? Kindness was near impossible to come by, but sometimes another homeless demon would roll their eyes at you before offering a little of their water ration. It probably wasn't the best idea to share a drink with a stranger, a demon no less, but you didn't have the luxury to be picky anymore. 

Food was another thing. You hadn’t managed to find anything to eat in days, and your hunger was becoming dire.

But, other than the occasional creeper trying to solicit you for sex, or groups of other demons that would pass by and laugh openly at the homeless, or the overwhelming hunger… the underpass wasn’t _that_ bad. 

Okay. It was pretty bad.

With all the spare time you had now, you'd spend hours thinking about your life before — and your pathetic death. The endless sound of car horns screeching at full blast echoed throughout the city, and it kept taking you back to the wreck that ended your life. Desperately trying to ignore the noise, you'd begun reflecting on everything you should've done differently. All of your regrets, unaccomplished dreams, and the friends you'd left behind.

And, when that inevitably made you feel too sad, you began to think about that hotel...

That… couldn’t have been real, right?

Why would the Princess of Hell want to _help_ sinners? It had to be some sort of scheme. Not to mention you’d heard nothing else of it since then, other than a couple of imps mocking it together as they passed by.

However, as what must’ve been the fourth day came around, your curiosity couldn't be ignored.

And the thought of free food, water… an actual _bed_. It was too tempting.

I mean, there really wasn’t anything to lose anymore. You were already dead.

So, with newfound determination, you lifted yourself weakly from the ripped towel you’d dug out of a nearby dumpster and set off to get directions to the “Happy Hotel.” Your body practically screamed in anguish and your stomach was running on empty. Maybe you’d manage to experience a second death by the end of today. Wouldn’t that be just your luck?

No one else in the underpass even spared you a final glance as you limped away, back out into the bright red glow of the city

***

Finding directions in Hell was stupidly difficult.

Sure, everyone here was a sinner of some sort, but was it really that hard to answer a simple question?

Most everyone on the street would threaten you, or yell something about how they aren’t a charity for the homeless before you could get a word in edgewise. You couldn’t really blame them… Although it had been days since you’d seen yourself in the window, you could tell you looked like an absolute mess.

The sound of rustling ahead of you had your face lifting hopefully. You had to keep trying.

A demon stood a little further up the street, unlocking the door to a business named “Rosie Emporium” in a sleek scrawl. The name Franklin was next to it, but had been blocked out with a simple black “x.” The woman fiddling with the key wore an exquisite dress; even from down the walkway you could see the intricate details that lined the hems. A sweet floral aroma wafted out from the eerie business as the door cracked open.

“E-excuse me!” You hated how raspy your voice had become. But, with so little water for days on end…

The woman turned her head in your direction, her eyes a pure, pupiless black. A brow lifted as she regarded you. “Can I help you?” Her tone sounded so smooth and calm compared to yours. Your cheeks flushed a bit.

“I-I…” You cleared your throat and tried again, “I was wondering if you know how to get to the uh… the h-hotel. The one the Princess of Hell announced on the news?”

She just stared at you a moment, features set in an image of confusion. But then, a wide smile broke across her face.

Everyone in Hell had such sharp teeth…

“Why, in fact, I do! I happen to know one of the… _patrons_ of that establishment.” 

Something in her voice and expression made you uncomfortable, but this was your best lead so far. You forced an unconvincing smile. “D-do you think you could point me in the right direction, ma’am?” Your voice was all gravel.

Her eyes crinkled at the edges from grinning. “Of course.” She stepped down the walkway towards you while reaching into a classy woven handbag hanging from her arm. Her hand came out, producing a small paper with delicate cursive. The directions were already all specified, as if she'd been expecting this interaction. “Here you are.”

You gripped the paper between your dark nails, stunned. “H-how did you…?”

Her soft giggle was clear as a bell.

“Don't worry about it, dear,” she winked slyly. “I wish you good luck at the hotel.” And with that, she turned on her heel back towards the emporium.

“T-thank you, ma’am!” You called at her retreating form.

“You may call me Rosie, dear.” She offered you one last wink over her shoulder before the door shut behind her. 

You felt elated. There was a slight skip in your step as you began following the guide to the Happy Hotel.

Maybe Hell isn’t all that bad.

***

You couldn’t help but double take at the sign perched atop the hotel.

_Hazbin Hotel?_

The Princess had _clearly_ announced the name Happy Hotel on the news!

Had Rosie given you directions to the wrong hotel? No… either way you couldn't turn back without checking for yourself. You steeled your nerves as you marched onwards.

The closer you grew to the door, the more intimidated you felt. One glance at the antique architecture told you this was definitely unlike any Marriott hotel you’d stayed at while alive… 

Gulping, you raised a fist.

You honestly have no idea how long you stood there, hand raised, ready to knock.

Long enough to convince you this was a bad idea, at least.

_I mean… look at yourself!_ You could see your reflection in the stained glass apples on the windows. Unkempt couldn’t even begin to describe how bad you looked.

Before you could fully talk yourself into high-tailing it back to the underpass, the door swung open.

The squeak that escaped you was fairly embarrassing.

“Hello, darling!” Radio static filled the atmosphere, mingling with the charismatic voice.

Your eyes locked with pure crimson.

The man in front of you was about as red as the never ending red of Hell's skies. It only seemed to emphasize his ever-growing, sharp golden smile. His eyes were alight in pure amusement as they darted from your dirtied face, to your similar deerish features, then to your ratty hospital attire.

You couldn’t help but examine him back. 

His dapper red suit, his monocle. Even his shoes shimmered as if they were recently polished. He clearly wasn’t sleeping on the side of the road every night like you... You somehow felt even more pathetic under his scrutiny.

Admittedly though, it was quite shocking to see another deer demon. The inhabitants of Hell seemed to all be so unique, so naturally your eyes were drawn to his antlers...

You didn’t have very long to ponder the demon before he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to his face.

He spoke up again, in a very 1920’s lilt. “Why, I’d begun to think you’d managed to become the first ice sculpture to survive down in Hell with how long you've remained frozen at the door!” A distorted laugh track played as he spoke, reminding you of the reruns of cheesy live studio audience shows that you used to occasionally watch late in the night. 

...Oh! He was speaking to you, and you were beginning to prove his ice sculpture theory true by standing there dumbly. “U-uh… s-sorry…” You awkwardly lowered your fist.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly before his smile somehow managed to stretch.

“Ha ha ha!” His laugh punctuated the air in staccato syllables. “And how might I be of service?”

You crossed your arms over your chest self-consciously. “Is this the uh… Happy Hotel?”

“Ah, yes, it is! We have had a recent name change, however you’ve arrived at the correct place!” Despite the chipper tone of his voice, the continuous radio static and glint in his eyes put you at unease. He stepped aside, gesturing you into the hotel.

Well… Still nothing to lose, right?

Averting your gaze downwards, you lightly thanked him and entered. You briefly noticed the mischievous look on his face turning darker, but by the time you’d registered it, he was back to his friendly act.

You stepped down an ornate hallway towards what you assumed to be the lobby, and he easily matched your stride with his long legs. “Were you looking to check in today?”

You swallowed.

“I-if possible”

His eyes grew half-lidded. “Of course, darling.”

You glanced around the lobby. Completely empty. 

Where was everyone?

“Uh…”

You turned again towards the red demon. A sound of a radio tuning could be heard as he loomed over you, saying nothing. His grin threatened to split his face. The static felt deafening.

“I-I don’t think you mentioned your name?” You tried meekly.

He leaned closer and extended a hand for a shake.

Despite your internal panic, and against your better judgement, you slowly placed your palm into his.

“Alastor, darling. It’s a pleasure.”

His grip tightened around yours. You couldn’t help but anxiously dart your pupils down to your joined hands when he wouldn’t let you pull away. Alastor’s pointed, red claws dug into your skin, almost firmly enough to draw blood.

“... And you are?”

When had his voice gone so deep? Your gaze met his again, only to confront the radio dials that twitched erratically in place of his ruby irises. The antlers on his head seemed to elongate; the shadows in the room began closing in. Even the simple task of breathing felt impossible as you choked on static.

Was he waiting for your answer?

The noise… It was too _loud_...

It was impossible to discern how long you were stuck like this, locked within this demon's grasp.

…

The front door burst open.

“Hey, we’re back!” A cheery voice called from down the hall.

All at once, the air cleared. Out of your peripheral you could see two silhouettes entering through the doorway. Alastor blinked twice, eyes returning to normal and withdrew his arm with a smirk. You broke out of your stupor and hurriedly wiped your clammy palm on your clothing.

“Alastor, who’s this?”

Once again his hand reached out, this time settling on your shoulder before deftly turning you towards the new voice. You came face to face with the Princess of Hell. Behind her stood a small gray demon with long white hair, squinting at the situation they both had walked in on.

“Well, I think we might’ve found ourselves a new guest here!” Alastor announced with a flourish, disregarding everything that had just transpired between him and you. 

He gave your shoulder a quick pinch with his claws, and you found your voice.

You were not prepared to actually speak to the Princess of Hell herself.

“H-hi, Princess! I, um! I heard about your project on the news and I was wondering if you have any more space at the hotel because I think your plan is really neat and I’d like to help out in any way I can and-“ Shit, you were rambling. Cheeks darkening, you clamped your mouth shut. You really were an awful liar. But, you couldn’t just tell her you only came for free food and a bed…

Especially not when her expression turned downright _giddy_. 

Thankfully, she saved you from further embarrassment by speaking up. Excitement laced her voice as she closed the distance across the lobby towards you.

“Oh wow, welcome to our hotel! Please, call me Charlie! This here is Vaggie,” she introduced the gray demon beside her, “ and, well… you’ve already met Alastor, I see.” Her smile turned apprehensive as she eyed the crimson demon next to you; Vaggie’s scowl deepened at the mention of his name. Charlie quickly continued. “We would love to have you here, and we still have plenty of rooms to spare! Currently, there's only one other resident, and a few other staff members. I can get you set up with a room right away!”

She cheerfully reached out for a handshake, one much more genuine than Alastor’s. You felt more than a little guilty for taking advantage of this girl’s apparent generosity, but if her rehabilitation worked and you actually went to Heaven, then maybe it was a win-win scenario. 

While Charlie had been speaking, you’d tried your best to ignore the white noise coming from the deer demon. He was the only real downside of the hotel so far. 

Still a better option than starving on the streets.

“Yes, please. I-I’d really like that.”

Charlie beamed.

The small squeeze she gave your hand in hers was reassuring and warm.

...

“Dear,” Alastor interrupted the happiest moment you’ve had so far in Hell, “I don’t believe we have gotten your name yet.” His grin was smug as he once more traced a claw across your shoulder and dipped closer into your personal space.

“Oh! Al’s right!” Charlie gasped. Even Vaggie appeared a little interested as everyone in the room waited for your response.

“Right! U-uh,” you began. “My name is...“

What to say?

Something about giving your real name in Hell felt… dangerous. Especially because most the demons you've come across so far seemed to go by an alternate name. No one yet had cared enough to ask you such a simple question, so now you were caught floundering.

You anxiously scanned the room as if it'd offer an answer for you.

Within the dark floral design of the wallpaper, you found that answer.

"Ivy!" You blurted.

The lobby was silent as everyone openly peered at the wallpaper you had obviously chosen your name from, and you prayed to God that you could _actually_ just experience a second death right now. 

Too bad you couldn't receive any heavenly mercy in Hell.

Your face was burning, and you scrambled to find something to say to make your response less ridiculous. You opened your mouth, but before you could explain yourself, your stomach interrupted with a loud growl.

Alastor's face brightened in glee. 

He was revelling in your embarrassment.

"Why, darling! You sound absolutely starved! Let’s see what we can whip up for you! It’s unfortunate that you weren’t here days ago, this fine establishment was treated to my mother’s famous jambalaya!" Alastor began chattering incessantly about recipes as he placed his grasp on the small of your back and steered you towards the kitchen. Helplessly, you allowed it, sparing a quick glance behind you. Charlie offered a weak thumbs up before lacing her fingers through Vaggie's and following. She gave your shoulder a light tap with her free hand and you had to drown out Alastor's prattling to hear her whisper.

"It's nice to meet you, Ivy. Thanks for coming."

  



	3. Chapter 3

  


When Alastor had all but dragged you into the kitchen, you knew you were doomed.

As uncomfortable as the man made you, he had quickly figured out your current biggest weakness… Food. It took incredible willpower to not salivate as you watched him skillfully prepare dinner.

The precision in which he handled a knife was maybe a little disturbing, but you tried not to think too hard about it.

Just before you'd gone absolutely feral from hunger, dinner was finished and you were ushered into a dining room. Charlie excitedly mentioned gathering up the other residents and took off up the stairs. Vaggie only rolled her eyes affectionately and offered you a small shrug as you both waited eagerly for her return.

By the time everyone was seated, Alastor had finished setting the table. It took all your concentration to introduce yourself to the new faces at the table before tearing into your meal.

A fluffy white and pink spider demon responded first. His name was Angel Dust, and he'd given you finger guns with all four arms and flashed a golden-toothed grin before turning his attention back to a groggy looking cat demon at his side. All you got from _him_ was a name — Husk. He clearly was not in the mood for small talk other than an occasional gruff, "fuck you," to Angel's advances. You had a feeling he'd rather be anywhere else than here.

Charlie briefly mentioned you had yet to meet the last staff member, a tiny demon named Niffty. Apparently, when Charlie told her of your arrival, she'd zoomed off to make sure a room was spotless and suitable enough for a new guest. You felt a little guilty that Niffty had to miss out on such an amazing meal, but you appreciated it nonetheless. You'd have to thank her later.

Alastor's cooking was _phenomenal_. 

Not that you'd planned on ever admitting it to him. 

You were still pretty shaken up by your first encounter, and honestly just wanted to avoid speaking to him as much as possible. 

It made you fairly mad how one good meal had your resolve melting away.

After a few pleasantries, you were content to just listen into the individual conversations around the table while you stuffed your face. Angel's lewd, but hilarious commentary seemed to liven up the table, and Charlie's bubbly personality was infectious. You couldn't help but laugh along at the banter. From the corner of your vision, you could feel Alastor watching, as if attempting to dissect your every movement.

You pointedly ignored eye contact with him.

He had seated himself directly across from you, of course. That bastard. It was obvious he was hoping for a reaction out of you. You could feel his gaze practically burning a hole into the side of your head. His annoying radio buzz somehow sounded pleased when you began fidgeting nervously.

But… for someone who'd appeared so terrifying at first, you quickly learned the one thing _more_ terrifying than whatever malicious power he possessed.

His humor.

How one man could have _so many_ dad jokes memorized was beyond you.

You think the groans in reaction to his one-liners only spurred him on. Unfortunately, the food was too good to just leave. If this was the price you had to pay to finally enjoy a real meal, then so be it.

Cringing in response to a particularly awful joke, you stuffed a large forkful into your mouth. 

"... Is everything to your liking, dear?" Alastor snapped you out of your inner monologue and you were forced to finally meet his gaze. His grin was wicked and amused as he watched you struggle to quickly swallow your bite and respond.

"Yes. It's…” you sighed, “it's great." Your answer was resigned.

"Perfect! Only the best for our new guest!" He winked at you from across the table and it was a struggle to not roll your eyes. He was ridiculously smug, even from such little praise, and you were not in the mood. Plate cleared, you sipped on your water so you could escape this interaction. 

You began gathering up silverware onto your dish, figuring that maybe washing everyone's dishes would help express your gratitude for allowing you to stay for free.

"Oh!" Charlie noticed. "No, Ivy, please don't worry about that! You’ve had a long day. How about we get you set up with your room? I know you must wanna get cleaned up a bit and relax!”

You hesitated a moment, already tempted by the idea of a bath.

But… you already felt like you were taking advantage of her kindness and you really _should_ help.

Angel piped up as he stood to leave. “Honestly toots, listen to the lady. Ya look like shit. No offense.” He called over his shoulder, heading up the staircase in the lobby.

Well… He wasn’t wrong. “None taken,” you mumbled and turned back to Charlie, your smile a little uncertain. “Sure, sounds good. Thanks, Charlie.”

She returned your smile, jumping up from her seat. “Great! Just give me one minute to go grab you a change of clothes, okay? Be right back!”

Husk got up wordlessly and wandered to the nearby bar, leaving just Vaggie and Alastor as your company. Alastor's eyes glinted in amusement and they darted back and forth from Vaggie’s distrustful expression to yours. You could see Vaggie cross her arms in annoyance.

“ _What’s so funny?_ ” She hissed at the crimson demon.

“Ha!” He just barked a curt laugh in response and rose from his seat, completely ignoring the question.

Alastor began to hum as he snapped his fingers, and suddenly all the dishes were gone, the table left spotless. With his eyes lidded and a pompous smile aimed only at you, he bent in half to bow. “Good night, darling. I’ll be seeing you tomorrow,” he said simply before shadows swallowed him whole. 

He was just... gone.

_H-How?!_

Vaggie let out a small ‘psh’ of annoyance. She glared at the spot he vanished. 

You finally stood from the table as well and stretched a bit. Having so much food in your stomach after being empty for days was slightly uncomfortable, but you were grateful you weren't dead on the street. You felt a little awkward here alone with Vaggie since you hadn’t spoken to her much. She always seemed so… on edge, especially when Alastor was around.

As if reading your mind, she sighed and turned to you. “Hey, Ivy. We should probably talk.”

Uh-oh. “Um… Talk?”

“Yeah, about _him._ The Radio Demon.”

“Radio demon? You mean Alastor?” _Of course it had to be him_ , you scolded yourself internally. He’s the only one _constantly_ surrounded by radio static.

Vaggie didn’t seem to judge. “Yes, him. Listen, I’m not sure what we walked in on earlier today, or what you think of him. I just want to warn you: he is _dangerous._ " Her fists clenched within her crossed arms. "He’s one of the most powerful demons here in Hell. Don’t fall for his friendly, cheery bullshit. He’s killed more than you can imagine, and when he’s acting nice it’s only for his weird, fucked up sense of _entertainment._ ” She exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“O-oh. If he’s so…” you waved your hands, uncertain of what word to use, “ _threatening_ , then why does he work here?” 

She shook her head in frustration. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Charlie is sometimes a little too sweet and accepting for her own good. She thinks that everyone deserves a chance. I want to support her, but… you need to understand _not to trust him._ ” She gauged your reaction, lips pressed into a frown.

“Believe me, I don’t. I’ll make sure to stay away.”

Vaggie nodded, pleased. “Okay, good. Also,” she offered you a timid smile, “thanks. Seriously. Charlie’s been pretty down about no residents showing up, and I think you really made her day.”

You couldn’t help blush a little, flustered from the silver-haired demon's genuine thanks. 

Honestly, you’d believed maybe she didn’t like you, but you could see that she just kept her guard up around Alastor. You didn't blame her, especially now understanding more about him.

_The Radio Demon..._

“Hey, Ivy!” Charlie hopped down the steps, a neatly-folded pile of fabric in her hands. “I think I found you some stuff to wear, at least until you have a chance to go pick out new stuff for yourself!” 

You graciously accepted the fresh clothing and followed her as she linked hands once again with Vaggie and headed up the stairs. On the second floor, she came to a stop at the sixth room down the hall. 

“Here you go.” A small golden key was placed in your palm. “Welcome to your room! It's one of our larger suites, so inside you have your own private luxury bathroom. If you need anything else at all, please don’t hesitate to come find me!” She pointed down to the door at the end of the hallway. “I’m just down the hall!” Her smile was bright as she and Vaggie continued on their way. “Have a great night, Ivy!”

“‘Night, Ivy.” Vaggie waved slightly with her free hand. 

These girls were too sweet to be in Hell. You had to swallow the sentimental waver in your voice as you replied.

“Good night! Thank you both so much, for everything.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a little choked up again as you unlocked the door and stared into the spacious room. 

The bed looked absolutely heavenly and plush, covered with more pillows than strictly necessary for one person. The walls were painted a dark royal maroon, and in the middle of the cherry wood floor was an expansive, intricate rug covered in small black detailing. The room had a large window with the velvet curtains pulled open. Through the window you could see the luminescent pentagram hovering in deep hue of the night sky. As promised, next to a wardrobe was the door leading to your luxury bathroom.

Seeing the claw foot tub was the final straw.

You were definitely tearing up now.

Getting this emotional over a bath was maybe a little silly, but thankfully no one was around to see it. The amount of time you spent soaking in the hot water was probably excessive, but scrubbing the grime from your skin was therapeutic. You basked in gentle vanilla-scented soap and leaned your head back to decompress for a while.

By the time you were done, you felt too tired to even put away the rest of the clothes Charlie had gifted you. You pulled on the pajamas and the rest of it was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor near the wardrobe.

You had collapsed on your bed and fallen fast asleep before you could even remember to lock your bedroom door.

***

_It was so dark._

_Where were you? You were freezing but unable to even shiver._

_You fought to open your eyes, only to be confronted with the sight of blood, pavement, and smoke._

_This was… how you died._

_For some reason, you were back at the site of the accident. Unlike last time, you were fully conscious. You still couldn't move, but your gaze traced the outline of your ruined car near the thick forest at the edge of the road, watching as it spat a plume of smoke into the atmosphere._

_How did you get this far from your car...?_

_It suddenly dawned on you. You'd been so tired and upset after the party that you'd driven off without buckling your seatbelt. Maybe if you’d remembered, you still would be alive…_

_The sound of grass crunching interrupted your thoughts. Your eyes snapped to exactly where the deer had stood last time._

_Except… this time it wasn't the deer._

_Your boyfriend stepped out from behind a tree, smile too wide on his face. Blood coated his arms, dripping down to the ground as they hung at his sides._

_"You did this to yourself, darling." His teeth were razor sharp._

_Your lips moved, desperate to respond, but you couldn't speak._

_You were suddenly so exhausted. Without another word your boyfriend backed into the forest, disappearing into the encompassing shadows. Your eyes fluttered shut momentarily. You just wanted to sleep._

_But… you were being watched again. You could feel it._

_With the last of your energy, you forced your eyes open once more._

_The deer stood in front of you, much closer than last time — close enough for its hot breath to fan across your face. Drool dribbled onto your cheek, leaking from the creature's open maw._

_And within its crimson gaze, radio dials twitched erratically._

_Your vision faded into static._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a lovely, family friendly dinner :) Thanks Alastor!
> 
> Thanks for reading! <3


	4. Chapter 4

  


"Fuck!"

You cursed, jolting upright.

Yanking the blanket off of you, you sprung up to run, and—

Wait. _Blanket...?_

That's right… You were here, at the hotel. And that deer… your boyfriend… 

It was just a nightmare.

Exhaling a deep sigh of relief, you allowed yourself to relax back into the mattress. A brief glance around the room confirmed you were in no danger. Through the window, a pale red that was almost salmon pink streamed in from between the cracks of the blinds. 

_It must be pretty early…_ you thought. With another sigh, you flopped ungracefully onto your back, snuggling into the fluff of the pillows.

Your boyfriend was… not a topic you'd wanted to think about. In fact, since landing in Hell, you'd pointedly ignored it. Why your dreams decided that _now_ was the time to remember him was beyond you.

And honestly — especially after your nightmare — you still weren't in the mood. You let out a huff and shut your eyes for a few more minutes of rest. 

Sleep did not come easily.

It took maybe all of fifteen minutes for you to realize you were too anxious to fall back asleep. Not to mention the fact that your throat was dry, and the cup of water on your bedside table was empty. 

You didn't really want to run into anyone downstairs, but maybe since it was still so early, no one would be awake yet? You weren't opposed to just drinking water from your bathroom sink, but the thought of ice cold refrigerated water was tempting you… 

Decision made, you sat up to stretch your muscles. 

First, you needed a quick pitstop to the bathroom. While brushing your teeth, you met your gaze in the mirror. Already, you were looking much more refreshed. This was only the third time you'd gotten the chance to examine your new appearance, so you were still adapting to it. You combed your fingers through your hair to tame it, figuring that even if it was a mess, it was still a far improvement from yesterday. Several strands of hair had become tangled around your antlers, or flipped across your deerish ears, and you worked hastily to unwind them. 

Then, after lifting your empty glass off the table, you tiptoed out the bedroom door.

The hallway was silent as you crept towards the stairs. A floorboard creaked under your feet as you reached the top step and you winced. When no one seemed to stir, you continued down.

Seeing the refrigerator across the kitchen made your heart leap with joy. Never would you have believed a fridge could make you _this_ happy, but… here you were.

You pried open the freezer to scoop a generous handful of ice cubes into the glass before refilling it with water. Once the water was near overflowing, you eagerly pressed the rim to your lips. The cold water soothed your parched throat as it went down. 

You nearly finished off half of what you'd poured with one swig; it felt so good to finally have constant access to fresh water again… Your eyes shut in contentment as you sipped from your glass.

…

"Good morning, darling!"

Moment of peace entirely disrupted, you practically jumped out of your skin and you whirled around to face the one person you _really_ didn't want to deal with right now. You had to hurriedly press your palm to your mouth to avoid doing a comical spit-take. The glass slipped from your fingers and you braced for the impact.

It never came. 

When you glanced up, it was clasped securely within a red clawed grasp — not a single drop spilled. A bright chuckle forced you to acknowledge the demon who held your water captive.

Your eyes locked with Alastor's.

His grin could only be described as shit-eating.

"Careful, dear! You act like you've seen a ghost!" His smile grew mischievously, but he extended his arm to return what you'd dropped. Cautiously, you accepted your glass. You gave him a once-over, wondering who in their right mind would be up and fully dressed at dawn. You said nothing in return, however.

It didn't seem to bother him — he continued speaking to you anyways.

"I must say," his arm was suddenly wrapping around your shoulders, "it's quite _ice_ to see you up so early, darling!"

_… No._

Did the infamous _Radio Demon_ just… _pun_ at you…?

You nearly forgot to respond in your disbelief. Shaking your head, you said, "uh, well… I'm only up for some water. I'm actually heading back up to my room now…" You timidly stepped out from his grasp and started for the kitchen exit.

Alastor tutted. "Now, now. Don't give me the _cold_ shoulder!" He winked at you and laughed, arm draping across you once again as he steered you towards the lobby.

Okay, there was no denying it.

He was _definitely_ punning at you.

"Ugh," was all you could think to say back. It seemed to amuse him though, by the way his eyes lit up.

"Dear, I would warn you to not follow the example of the other sinners here. They lack all proper discipline! The only way to have a productive day is to rise bright and early!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. This whole interaction was grating, especially when you were still so tired. The crimson demon was practically enveloping you, preventing you from leaving. Unfortunately, he still frightened you too much for you to really do anything about it — the memory of your first encounter with him was still so fresh in your mind. That was just yesterday, after all.

"Well," you tried, "I still _am_ pretty exhausted, honestly… Did you, uh… _need_ something from me in particular?" The tips of your fingers were going numb from the chilly perspiration beading on the glass.

Alastor suddenly stepped in front of you to face you, stopping you dead in your tracks. 

"Hmm…" he scrutinized you, bringing a single digit up to his chin thoughtfully. You shifted uncomfortably under his leer. "Nonsense, darling! You look perfectly well-rested to me. In fact, who knew such a lovely face was hiding under all that grime and fatigue!" 

He chuckled, and you felt all hope of crawling back into bed wither away. 

Before you could even manage a response, he was talking again. "As for what I _need_ from you? Well… it's not so much a _need_ , as it is that I _would like_ to get acquainted with our newest resident."

You… hadn't been expecting that.

_Why_ would he want to get to know you? Most likely to know what made you tick, to expose your weaknesses… It would be even easier for him to mess with you that way.

But… staring at his chipper expression, you couldn't help but reconsider a bit.

Other than your chilling introduction to this man, he had been mostly courteous. He had prepared a wonderful meal for you last night and seemed relatively pleasant during other conversations, although still slightly unnerving. Maybe he just hadn't trusted you when you first arrived and was attempting to dissuade you from trying any funny business at the hotel.

On the other hand however, you recalled Vaggie's warning.

You knew who Alastor was now — the _Radio Demon_ — and you _needed_ to stay alert.

As long as you kept that in mind, it might be fine to try to extend an olive branch. Being on Alastor's good side would definitely benefit you more than staying distant and an easy target for his tricks. You would just be as polite as possible and hope it encouraged him to stop bothering you.

"Um… W-what would you like to know?"

His smile split his face, teeth sharp as razors.

"Well, for one, how did a timid creature such as yourself end up here, in Hell?"

You stilled. 

"Uh, well… you know, the usual, uh… sinning and whatnot," you lied, completely unconvincingly. 

"Oh?" His eyes practically danced in amusement. "What kind of 'whatnot' do you mean, dear?"

"I-it's! Not really important! I'm… you know, just trying to put all of it behind me. Gotta start off here on the right foot!" You smiled widely, feigning cheerfulness. The fact that you were quivering nervously was not helping your act.

Alastor simply stared at you for a minute. By the look on his face, he clearly didn't believe you. Not that you'd given him any reason to, with your awful acting skills. His hum of static sounded almost curious, as if questioning you without him having to say a word.

You were growing more and more uncomfortable by the second, but then… 

"Ha ha ha! That's the spirit! None of that truly matters now." An audience cheered from the white noise that always surrounded Alastor. His arm wound tightly around you again, and you exhaled, resigned. "We could surely use more of that positive thinking here."

"Y-yeah, I'll uh… I'll do my best?"

"I hope you will, darling! Perhaps we could put some of that can-do attitude into helping run this hotel. You've noticed the sheer amount of barren guest rooms here, I'm sure."

You shrugged noncommittally. 

"I mean, it _is_ a little empty, I guess. But it's only been a few days since Charlie's interview, so I bet eventually some more people will start showing up…?"

"Ha ha!" He patted your head in a way that felt patronizing before finally withdrawing his claws. They folded neatly behind his back as he continued speaking. "Of course, dear. However in the meantime, I'm certain you have a special skill set that can be utilized!"

Displeased to where this conversation was headed, you crossed your arms.

"Uh, sure… I'll help in any way I can?"

"Wonderful!" Seemingly appeased, Alastor reached up to pinch your cheek. You jumped at his sharp touch. When he pulled away, you scrubbed a palm on your face, cheek a little sore from his nails. His eyes squinted gleefully as he watched you.

"Good morning, guys!"

Ever your savior, you spun to see Charlie hopping down the steps. As she descended, she simultaneously buttoned up her crisp red blazer. She seemed absolutely elated despite the ungodly hour. It… didn't really surprise you that she was a morning person.

"Ivy! I didn't expect to see you up so early," Charlie chirped.

"Well, I was mostly up just for some water," you shook the chilled glass in your hand, ice cubes clinking against the sides. "But then I ran into Alastor," you motioned at the demon beside you, hoping Charlie could recognize the 'help me' look you sent her way.

"Yes, indeed! And you will never believe what our new guest here suggested," Alastor cut in, placing an elbow on top of your head between your antlers and leaning on you as support. Your eyelid twitched; all you wanted was to go back to bed.

"What's going on?" Charlie grinned at the two of you, playing along.

Alastor cleared his throat, indicating that you should be the one to tell her. 

Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you explained, "well, uh… if you happen to need any help around the hotel, I'd be glad to do whatever I can. I really appreciate you letting me stay, and so if there's any way I can make it up to you…"

"Oh! Well, don't feel like you owe me anything! I'm glad you're staying here, so no pressure at all," Charlie clarified. "But… if you're set on helping, maybe Alastor and I could come up with a position for you?"

"What do you say, darling?" Alastor was upright and next to Charlie before you could even blink.

"Okay, yeah… sounds good. Thanks, Charlie," you said, and then as an afterthought, "and uh, Alastor."

Charlie beamed at you. "Well, for now, I think you should go take it easy, Ivy! Take a couple of days off at least, until you're all settled in."

_She truly should've been an angel…_

You gratefully nodded in agreement, the solitude of your bedroom calling to you. Parting with a wave, Charlie was off to start on whatever morning duties she had as the hotel's manager. Alastor moved to follow her, leaving you with the fading buzz of his static and a succinct, "Until later, darling."

With a newfound skip in your step, you happily ascended the stairway up towards the landing. Despite the fact you still didn't trust Alastor, and the fact that he'd all but forced you into taking _some sort_ of position at the hotel, you weren't mad at him. You really _did_ want a chance to help Charlie, so it was fine in the end. 

All in all, that had been a pretty successful conversation!

For now, however, you were a little drained from waking up so early. Maybe after a quick nap, your faint headache would disappear.

But, as you reached the last step, Alastor's voice called once more from the lobby in a final farewell.

"Sleep well," he said, and then he spoke your name.

Not _Ivy_ , but… 

Your _real_ name.

Startled, you whipped around, gripping onto the railing with your free hand to prevent you from losing your balance.

But he was already gone.

  



	5. Chapter 5

  


Per Charlie’s insistence, you had taken a full week to rest before starting your new job. You weren't going to complain — you were relieved to have some time alone.

You spent the first few days holed up in your room, and if you were being honest with yourself, it was mostly because you were terrified of Alastor. 

How had he known your name? 

Did you _actually_ hear him say it...? Or had you just imagined it? 

The more you thought about it, the more your memory of that incident became a blur.

The constant nightmares that had begun plaguing you were definitely not helping with your anxiety either. Nearly every morning, you’d wake early in a cold sweat, distorted images of your past life burned into your mind. You never wanted to risk running into Alastor downstairs, especially since you now knew he'd already be up at the crack of dawn, so you’d just force yourself to stay in bed. Most of the time, you would never fall back asleep.

However, in the end, you couldn’t really avoid him completely. You had to sit across from him during dinner — you were willing to skip other meals to hide in your room, but you refused to go totally hungry again. So, once a day you would just swallow your nerves and head down to the dining room for the obligatory group mealtime. According to Charlie, eating together was an essential for building friendships among the residents. 

If you’d try to choose another spot at the table, Alastor would still find a way to lock eyes with you whenever you couldn’t help but peek up at him. He seemed to find some cruel sense of amusement in watching you fidget in your seat, uneasy under his gaze.

It was strange though… Other than his usual riling you and the other residents up through awful jokes or creepy commentary, he hadn’t really _done_ anything to you specifically. 

Your real name was never mentioned again. No one else seemed to be acting differently, so you could also assume that even if he _did_ know it, he hadn’t told anyone.

With a little self-reflection, you realized you didn’t really care if he knew your name. It only worried you _how_ he knew, and what other information of yours he could possibly possess… 

But, after three whole days of laying on your bed and reading a novel that Charlie had lent you, it started to sink in.

You were bored.

Too bored to remain in your room for another full day. It felt like your sanity was at stake.

Running into Alastor was just a risk you’d have to take.

So, throwing caution to the wind, you decided to spend your final free days exploring the hotel.

The hotel was so much bigger than you'd imagined, and you’d already imagined it being ridiculously large just based off the exterior. You scoped out every floor, including the dilapidated upper floors that had yet to be renovated. Sometimes you'd spot Niffty in the more worn-out sections of the hotel, cleaning wildly with her apparent boundless energy.

You had also discovered an elegant ballroom, a library filled to the brim with old books, and your favorite of all… the balcony. It overlooked a very overgrown garden, but even covered in weeds you found it charming. Throughout the garden were mossy stone statues of intricate demonic figures, and in the center sat a large fountain, tendrils of vines snaking around its exterior. The stagnant water in the fountain reflected the eerie red of the sky, painting the garden in an otherworldly glow. Somehow, the scenery calmed you — you started bringing out a book to read while enjoying the view. You could only imagine how nice it’d look once the weeds were tended to.

By the final day of your break, you were definitely feeling stir crazy.

Although you were anxious about whatever job you’d be assigned, at least it’d give you a sense of purpose again.

Yet another dinner had passed, and your mood was improving. You had stopped worrying so much about Alastor, and you were warming up to the other residents. This evening had been particularly fun, with a story from Angel leaving you in stitches. Your cheeks were sore from laughing, and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this happy. 

As everyone finished and filtered out of the dining room, Charlie called out to you and motioned you towards her office. When you rose to follow her, you caught a glimpse of a mischievous smirk playing at the edges of Alastor’s lips.

Suddenly you felt nervous again.

She welcomed you inside her office and shut the door gently before turning to you.

“So… how have you been enjoying your first week here?” Charlie asked warmly, a bright smile spreading across her face.

“Oh, it’s definitely been a nice break! Honestly though… I think I’m ready to start doing something now,” you laughed shyly.

“That’s great to hear! Luckily, I think we’ve found an open position for you!”

Her voice carried a slight apprehension despite her encouraging words. 

You paused briefly. “What kind of job is it?” 

“Well,” Charlie began, “I think you’d be perfect for our new chef position!”

...

You were definitely confused now. 

“Uh… chef…?”

Charlie nodded eagerly. “Yep! Eventually, of course, we’ll have a full kitchen staff to lead, but for now I figured that we can at least get you familiar with the inner workings of the job.”

“Charlie, I uh... Not to disappoint you, but I think the only thing I've really cooked before is ramen…” You cringed at the memories of all your pathetic meals from when you were alive. You’d never really bothered to learn how to cook; since your boyfriend was almost never home, it always felt pointless if you were just eating alone. “Also… I thought Alastor was the hotel’s chef?”

“Ah, well yes! He is, but he’s anticipating being busy with his other obligations in the future, especially when we start getting more residents. He probably won’t be able to cook every night by himself, so he wanted to get some help for when that happens.”

_Of course he’d be behind this…_

But… something about that didn’t sound right to you. There was no way Alastor was _really_ expecting the hotel to get enough business to keep him occupied, so what was he playing at?

“Also,” Charlie added, “don’t worry about any lack of experience. He offered to personally train you himself, as his assistant!” She beamed at you, bouncing excitedly on her heels. 

You froze. 

Oh… So _that’s_ what he’s getting from this.

More time to torture you.

You floundered for a response; some kind of gentle way to turn down the offer. “Wow, uh! As much as I really appreciate this opportunity, I don’t think—” You stopped mid sentence when you saw Charlie physically deflate. 

_Damn it…_

She had you whipped… There was no way you could say no to her pleading eyes.

You exhaled a sigh.

“I mean, I… I’ll take it. Whatever I can to help out,” you tried to smile reassuringly, but you were sure it looked more like a grimace. Charlie didn’t seem to mind though as she immediately perked back up and threw her arms around you in a thrilled embrace.

“Aw, Ivy, thanks! You’re going to do really great!” She pulled back from the hug. “I know you’re still probably a little intimidated by Alastor, but I think this will be good for him too.” 

You had no idea how this could actually be a good thing for either of you, but her elated expression kept your mouth shut. Charlie had done so much for you already, so you were determined to do your best for her.

“So, uh… When will I be starting? Tomorrow?”

“Yep! Al mentioned that you should meet him in the kitchen at six o’ clock sharp tomorrow morning for breakfast prep.” You swallowed nervously and nodded, and Charlie continued, “your duties will only include breakfast and dinner, so hopefully that will give you plenty of time to relax too! Above all else, you're still a resident here and I don't want you to feel overworked."

"A-ah, okay." You wrung your hands in front of you worriedly, already dreading the idea of working with Alastor twice a day.

"Oh!" Charlie's face lit up in delight as she remembered something. She turned and reached into a shopping bag on her desk before handing you a neatly folded outfit. "Also, I got you a uniform! I hope you like it."

You peered down at the uniform in your arms. It seemed to be fairly similar to what Charlie typically wore — a white button up shirt and black slacks — with the addition of a deep red apron. You inwardly winced at the thought that you were going to look like some sort of hellish barista, but shrugged it off. At least she wasn't handing you a cartoony chef's hat.

"Thanks, Charlie."

***

You only managed a few hours of sleep before you were once again gasping in a sharp breath and springing up from under the covers.

_Another nightmare…_

Groggily, you flipped the switch on the nearby lamp. You rubbed your temples in a weak attempt to quell your building migraine. This was getting ridiculous. Was one restful night of sleep too much to ask for?

Feeling antsy, you stood from your bed. A glance at the clock told you it was only 1 a.m. You groaned. Normally you could at least sleep in until 4 a.m. before a nightmare would wake you. Now you'd have to spend your whole first day of work exhausted.

Oh well.

Grabbing your book, you resolved that maybe an hour or two of reading might calm your nerves enough to allow you to sleep again. But… your room felt too stuffy to concentrate now… 

You knew just the place to go. 

Carefully, you crept through the hotel towards the balcony. With the hallways so dimly lit, you couldn't help but feel slightly spooked. Fortunately, however, you reached the door to the balcony without incident.

Hand on the door handle, you paused. 

…What was that sound?

It was a lovely melody, but… where was it coming from?

Squinting your eyes, you looked out the window, scanning the darkest corners of the balcony until you saw him. 

Alastor sat, leaning back in a way much more casual than you'd ever seen him, a violin held between his claws. You could only slightly make out his profile from where you stood, but you could tell his eyes were closed as he continued to play unperturbed.

Holding your breath, you slowly released the door handle and began to back away. There was no way in Hell you were going to interrupt him. 

Before you could fully return into the shadows of the hallway, Alastor lifted his hand from the violin's neck and snapped. The door creaked open, carrying with it a cool nighttime breeze.

You froze.

"No need to be shy, darling. Please, come join me," Alastor said, eyes never opening. His fingers returned to the violin and he easily picked up from where he left off in the midst of whatever tune he was playing.

_Shit._

Well, you'd been caught. There was no use in trying to sneak away now… 

As much as you dreaded it, this gave you the perfect opportunity to ask the question that had been haunting you for days, and maybe even clear the air before you had to start working with him in the morning.

Steeling your resolve, you walked out. The door shut behind you before you had the chance to do it yourself.

Surprisingly, Alastor said nothing more. He was an image of pure relaxation, lounging in his seat with one leg crossed over the other and dragging his bow across the violin's strings. Still cautious, you moved to sit at the opposite end of the balcony, as if the extra space between the two of you could offer you some protection.

You tried to feign indifference and cracked open your book to read, but you retained none of the words. …Why wasn't he saying anything? You were afraid to be the one to start a conversation. Peeking at him out of your peripheral, you felt jealous of how comfortable he looked. You gave up trying to read and stared out at the garden, thoughts racing.

"Something on your mind?"

You jumped. After so much silence, his voice was jarring. His eyes remained closed, fingers continuing their dance along the violin’s neck.

"Just… wondering why you're out here in the middle of the night…?"

His close-lipped smile stretched into a toothy grin. "I could ask the same of you, dear."

You shrugged. "Couldn't sleep. Thinking too much about uh… _work_ tomorrow," you lied. No need to mention your nightmares.

If he noticed your hesitation, he didn't comment on it. His eyes finally opened, and he turned his head a bit to look at you. "Ah, of course! I look forward to seeing your culinary skills."

"Don't expect much," you mumbled. You ran your thumb idly along the edge of your book.

"Darling, under my mentorship you'll become Hell's most fearsome chef in no time." He smiled widely at you.

"Mm," you hummed noncommittally, gaze returning to the garden. The sky was dusky and dark, the deep color reminding you of wine. Along with the gentle breeze that brushed through your hair, the quiet chirping of Hell's insects, and the melody Alastor was playing, the scene felt dreamlike. 

You sighed, nervous to broach the next subject.

"So, Alastor…" you began, "how did you know?"

A noise like a radio tuning resounded from Alastor, and he stopped playing to give you his attention.

"Know what?" His growing smirk was not at all discreet. 

"My name…?"

"Ivy, you mean? If I recall correctly, I believe you told everyone, dear." He was looking at you again, with a face so smug that you would slap him if he weren't an all-powerful demon.

You huffed. "No, I meant my _real_ name. How do you know it?"

"Oh! Well, I wasn't even aware until now that you’re using an alternate name." By the glint in his eyes and his wicked grin, you could clearly see he was lying. Something told you that pushing him would do you no good — he obviously wasn't planning on telling you anything.

Frustrated, you abruptly turned back towards your book. To really rub it in, you heard him chuckle lowly at your reaction before the sound of violin filled the air again.

You really weren't in the mood to deal with his teasing right now, so you opened your book and glared down at the page you'd left off on.

Somehow, despite your initial annoyance, you eventually settled into a strange camaraderie on the balcony with Alastor.

You were finally able to read a bit. His static still prickled at your skin enough that you wouldn't call the silence _comfortable_ per say, but you figured this would be the closest approximation to comfortable that you could get with the Radio Demon. And, for such an evil and dangerous man, you had to admit his musical talent was impressive… Almost soothing, even.

You weren't sure how long you were reading, but it was long enough for your eyelids to feel heavy. Marking your page, you silently shut your book. You suppressed the urge to yawn.

Alastor seemed perfectly awake, but you couldn't hold out any longer. With a last glance towards the garden, you stood and walked to the door. 

You hesitated, unsure if you should say anything before you left. 

Your manners got the best of you, and you spoke up. "I'm gonna try to sleep a little, so uh… good night, Alastor."

As you were entering the hotel, he responded, voice laced with radio feedback.

“See you soon, darling.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you are doing okay and staying safe ♡ 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

  


"— and he just _stood_ there! He was _smiling_ the whole fucking time!" 

You flopped angrily onto a barstool with a huff, reaching behind yourself to tear off your food-stained apron.

"Eh, I'm sure it wasn't _that_ bad, toots." Angel shrugged dismissively.

"Nah, I believe it," Husk said as he leaned on the bar, claws drumming an unsteady rhythm on the counter. 

You exhaled tiredly, propping your elbows up on the granite countertop and burying your face into your hands. 

To put it lightly, this morning had been a _disaster._

You'd awoken after maybe an extra hour of sleep and quickly pulled on your new uniform. When you'd arrived at the kitchen, Alastor was already there waiting for you and grinning like a madman. You should've listened to your gut right then and quit the job before it started, but you desperately clung onto the hope that everything would be okay.

It wasn't.

Throughout the entirety of breakfast prep, Alastor did all he could to make everything go horribly wrong. He tried to play innocent, but even though you never actually saw him move, you _knew_ the shifting shadows around the room were _not_ just a trick of your mind.

The bacon was burnt beyond being edible, the eggs were pure mush, and the wall near the stovetop was now charred black… 

Everyone at the table that morning looked sick to their stomach at just the sight of the meal, and though they'd pushed the food around on their plates, you weren't sure if anyone actually took a bite. The only reason you could face Angel and Husk at all was because neither of them had been awake early enough to be subjected to your cooking yet.

"Ugh," you pressed your fingers against your temples, "that fire was _not_ my fault, I swear to God."

"Ha!" Angel barked a laugh. "No use swearing to him now, babe. All ya gotta do is win Smiles over with a little charm." He batted his eyelashes at you seductively to illustrate his point.

Husk, on the other hand, was vehemently shaking his head. "Nope, don't even try, kid. Your best bet is to quit while you still can."

You sighed, "no. I can't let Charlie down like that, especially not before I even finish one full day. Maybe Alastor and I can come to some sort of truce before dinnertime…?"

Husk snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."

From your side of the bar, Angel's phone dinged. He rolled his eyes and stood to leave. "Speakin' of shitty bosses, that's my cue." He lifted his hands to fluff up his chest and strutted off towards the lobby door.

You watched him walk away, a silence settling over you and Husk. It was already past noon now; one of your duties was to clean the kitchen after meals and, considering the mess this morning, it had taken hours to scrub the grime off of all surfaces. Despite the later time, Husk still looked exhausted. You suddenly felt guilty for taking up his afternoon to complain about your job, so you uncomfortably cleared your throat and rose to leave as well.

"Uh… thanks for listening. See you later, Husk."

He looked somewhat flustered by your gratitude, but quietly grumbled something that sounded like a brusque, "see ya, kid."

***

_Okay._

_You've got this._

Several hours had passed, and it was nearly time to head down for your next shift. You willed away the lingering dread in your stomach. 

During your break you had the opportunity to wash your apron and decompress a bit, and you felt much more mentally prepared now that you knew what to expect from Alastor.

He wanted to scare you out of the job?

He was going to have to try a lot harder than that.

You took a moment to breathe and summon your courage at the entrance to the kitchen. With your fists clenched at your sides, you strode in.

As expected, Alastor was already there, humming a little tune and thumbing through a recipe book. Unlike last time however, he appeared dressed for the job. His coat was removed, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and a dark apron tied around him. You cocked an eyebrow. This morning he hadn't even attempted to play into the charade of being your mentor — he had stayed fully dressed and just laughed at your failures from the corner of the room.

"Welcome back, dear." He finally turned to you, his smile crinkling the edges of his eyes.

"Uh, hey. What's with all that?" You gestured vaguely at his outfit and the book in his hands.

"Ah, yes! Well, after observing you this morning, I realized your situation is more dire than I'd originally believed." He shook his head dramatically.

"... What?"

"You seem to be utterly incompetent in the culinary arts. I mean, really, a kitchen fire?" Alastor chided you.

"Wh-! That-! That wasn't me!" You stammered, cheeks suddenly flaming.

He smiled back at you devilishly. " _Oh?_ Then who caused it, I wonder?"

You knew _exactly_ who it was, but instead of dignifying him with a response you just pursed your lips, moving to peer at the recipe he had marked in the book. There was no winning this argument with him anyway. Your hair fell in front of your face as you stared at the page, hopefully hiding your embarrassed blush.

"Don't worry, darling! This time I've chosen a recipe much more suited to someone of your skill level." He patted your head condescendingly before you had the chance to duck away.

The selected recipe was for a hearty stew. It didn't really seem any easier than breakfast at all… In fact, it seemed like it would be much more difficult. Luckily, you'd made stew once or twice before, and although it'd been a while, at least you understood the gist of it. 

"Okay, so uh… What should I start on first?" you asked.

Wrapping an arm around you, Alastor led you to the adjacent counter where a cutting board and knife were placed. 

"Read through all the vegetable ingredients and start chopping them. I'll take care of the meat myself. Wouldn't want anyone to get food poisoning, would we?" He winked at you, and once again you suppressed the urge to slap him. 

"Yes, _sir,_ " you practically hissed, gritting your teeth. Alastor ignored the venom in your voice and smiled impossibly wider. He grabbed his own knife and board to start cutting the meat and resumed humming.

After a quick once-over of the list, the vegetables were all washed and on the counter, ready to cut. You'd only managed to slice half a carrot before you heard Alastor tutting at you over your shoulder.

"Dear, that is an absolutely poor cutting technique. You could lose a finger like that, you know."

Before you could form any kind of retort, his arms were slipping around you to grab your hands in his. With one hand, he curled your fingers into a fist to press the carrot down, and with the other he adjusted your hold on the knife. Your face felt aflame; he was way too close for comfort and you especially did not like him having control of your knife. Struggling to break free did you no good, however. 

" _This_ is how you should hold the knife," he said, voice so close that it caused an ear to twitch on top of your head. Guiding your hand, he pressed the knife down in a steady rhythm until the carrot was completely chopped, much neater than the half you had done alone.

He pulled back from behind you and you whipped around, knuckles turning white from how tightly you gripped the knife.

Alastor just chuckled at your flushed angry face. "Did that help, darling?" 

"I can do it by myself," you spat. 

You were surprised at how brave you were being right now. Well, maybe not _brave_ — maybe more like stupid. Snapping at the Radio Demon was probably one of your worst decisions. But he just laughed delightedly, his sharp teeth on full view. A distant audience laughed with him, distorted by radio feedback.

You felt your resolve wavering when his ruby eyes bore into you.

"Can you? Well then, you should probably get to it. The clock is ticking. Stew takes a while to cook, after all." And with that, he turned to rummage through a cabinet filled with pots and pans. 

You only hesitated a moment before returning to the cutting board. You stayed much more alert as you finished dicing all the ingredients, keeping a wary eye on Alastor. As much as you hated to admit it, his technique _did_ end up helping you a bit… not that you would ever tell him so.

"Okay," you mumbled, "done."

"Would you bring them here, darling?" 

By now, Alastor had already cooked the meat and set it aside. You approached him with the tray of vegetables, and the carrots and potatoes were added into the pot. At some point he had pulled out a variety of different seasonings that sat around the stovetop in a halo. "This part is crucial," he stressed. Intrigued, you just watched as he poured in the broth, a dash of wine, the rest of the vegetables, and a sprinkle of what appeared to be rosemary and thyme. Alastor moved skillfully, not even requiring a moment to consider the flavor profile of the dish — clearly, he knew what he was doing.

You didn't feel like much help standing there, hands awkwardly clutching the hem of your apron. This would've been a great learning opportunity if Alastor didn't move so fast. You couldn't even begin to keep up.

You considered asking him to explain what he was doing, but by the time your mouth began to form the words, he was done and the pot had been covered with a lid and left to simmer. 

"And now," Alastor announced, leaning back against the counter's edge, "we wait."

"Oh, uh… How long will it take?" You asked, peering around him at the cookbook. At the top of the page, you found your answer. "An hour?"

When you realized he hadn't responded, you became acutely aware of the fact that Alastor was just watching at you, his smirk wide and static buzzing.

You were tense under his gaze. Was he mad about your outburst earlier? It was impossible to read his expression under that never fading smile.

"Well!" You laughed nervously, "I guess if it needs an hour, then I'll just…" you started, as you slowly backed towards the kitchen exit.

Finally, he spoke. "No, no," he began, and when you blinked he was next to you and steering you back into the room. "What if there is another kitchen emergency while you're gone? We need to stay right here and keep an eye out." 

Despite his lanky appearance, his arm was sturdy and held you in place. You shifted uncomfortably within his grasp. Uncertain what to say, you stuttered, "a-ah, okay."

Why wouldn’t he just leave you alone?

He eyed you for a moment, then the stew cooking on the stove, calculating. 

Alastor snapped, and you flinched against his side. He released your shoulder to stand in front of you, his face alight with humor. "Darling…" he trailed off, waiting for your response.

"... Yes?"

His grin was predatory in a way that made you tremble. You must have made him furious somehow, and now he's going to take it out on you. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, regretting everything.

"What vegetable might you find in your basement?"

…

You blinked.

"Um. What…?"

"Cellar-y!"

You stood there, unmoving and confused while Alastor laughed at his own terrible joke. 

"Hmm…" he continued. "Maybe you'd prefer a meat joke? I've heard they're quite _rare._ "

You groaned weakly. This was not what you'd been anticipating, but it was probably a worse form of punishment. He seemed entertained by your suffering.

"Ha! Smile, dear!" 

You frowned harder. "I'm gonna start cleaning," you replied tersely, turning to scoop up the vegetable scraps littering the countertop. It didn't shake Alastor off of you; he stuck at your side while you washed your cutting board and wiped down the counter, firing off bad cooking puns the entire time.

But by the time you'd finished cleaning, you were struggling to keep a ghost of a smile off your lips. The puns were all terrible, but they were wearing you down… You exhaled an amused breath through your nose, and he definitely noticed. He leaned in, towering over you with a large grin. You could sense that there was another joke on the tip of his tongue.

"No, please, don't." You were definitely smirking now, unable to hold your poker face any longer. Then, thoughtlessly, you reached up to playfully shove his arm. It was gentle, just a light nudge, but you immediately realized your mistake.

Under your palm, you felt Alastor still completely. A shock stung your hand, causing you to abruptly yank your arm away. 

Your eyes snapped up to look at him in alarm, only to be met with the sight of flickering radio dials within his own. The atmosphere in the kitchen mirrored that of the first time you'd met Alastor in the lobby.

"A-Alastor…?" you tried, all confidence from earlier gone.

His smile was stretched taut from ear-to-ear, and you could sense the danger in it. White noise clung to your skin almost painfully.

Then, just as abruptly as it'd started, the static disappeared. Alastor was upright, eyebrows raising in surprise as he looked over the top of your head. Your heart was racing, but he whisked by you towards the covered pot on the stove.

"Oh, it appears the stew is finished!" 

You braced a hand against the cabinet to steady yourself, feeling lightheaded. What was _that?_ Was it just because you'd touched him…? 

Yet there he was, back to normal and stirring the stew. Feeling your fearful gaze on him, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eyes with a look of impatience.

"Darling, are you still here with me? We need to hurry and get the table set. Everyone should be coming down soon."

You blinked once, twice. Finally, you peeled your grip off the cabinet. You shakily nodded at him, voice failing you, and grabbed a pile of dishes and silverware and dashed out towards the dining room.

Although you were thankful for the distance from Alastor, it felt like your trembling legs might betray you and cause you to collapse or drop the dishes at any moment.

Carefully, you worked to set the table, mind racing.

"Uh, hey, you okay?"

You yelped, so distracted by your thoughts that you hadn't seen Vaggie in the dining room. Her head was tilted as she examined you.

"... Did Alastor do something to you?"

"O-oh! Um, no! I'm totally fine. It's just… these dishes are a little heavy," you said in a rush, plastering a fake smile on your face.

"You should've said so, my dear. I would've been happy to lend a hand." 

Again, you leaped in place as Alastor was suddenly beside you. Except… instead of looking at you, his eyes were locked with Vaggie in some sort of challenge. She glared back and crossed her arms defensively. 

The air was thick with tension. Your eyes darted between the two demons helplessly, uncertain if one of them was going to make a move. 

The sound of approaching footsteps finally broke the silence.

"Hey, guys!" Charlie chirped from where she appeared in the doorway, her cheerful voice slicing through the suspenseful atmosphere in an almost palpable way. "Wow, that smells amazing! I'm guessing cooking lessons are going well?" She was grinning at you expectantly.

Your throat was dry, but you forced a response.

"O-oh, yeah! It's going great, Charlie." 

"Yes, indeedy!" Alastor cut in, leaning on you amiably and pinching one of your cheeks. Once again, he acted as if nothing had just transpired. "My lovely assistant did an outstanding job tonight!" 

You grimaced, rubbing your face. You'd barely done anything, but if he was willing to give you the credit then you'd take it.

"Great!" Charlie beamed.

Across the table, Vaggie continued to glare. You should probably talk to her later, but maybe when Charlie and Alastor weren't in the room… 

The other residents began to filter in, lured by the aroma of stew. Everyone was much more eager to eat this meal than your breakfast, even occasionally throwing compliments in your direction. You felt guilty, but you accepted the praise with a flustered smile. Finally, you took off your apron and joined them at the table, anxiety from earlier swiftly dissipating as you ate and chatted. You couldn't help the slight swell of pride in your chest at how delicious the meal had turned out.

Other than the rough start this morning, you had survived today. It wasn't going to be easy, but… you were willing to stick it out. You _wanted_ to do this. You wanted to feel useful, and you weren't going to let Alastor spook you out of your new job. There had to be a way to figure him out.

You were going to try your best, even if it ended up being the second death of you.

Once the room had been cleared for the night, you wiped down the table with renewed vigor, jaw set in determination.

_No matter what, you were going to do this._

...

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, also! I made a new Tumblr just for the purpose of posting dumb doodles for this fic and potentially any other future stuff I write c:
> 
> I drew a couple doodles of how I picture Ivy in my head, so feel free to take a look if you'd like:  
> [Tumblr](https://bunniei.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

  


You couldn't help but pout a little as you stared down at your sauce-stained apron. You would have to really scrub to get these stains out before work tomorrow… Not to mention this was already the third time this week it had been ruined on the job. Charlie had promised to order you some back-up uniforms, but they couldn't arrive soon enough.

If only it weren't for _him_ , you wouldn't have to spend all your free time nowadays doing laundry.

"Darling, I believe the recipe called for the sauce to go onto the _plate._ But I have to say, the color red does suit you." 

You turned just in time to see Alastor lift his hand towards you to run a single digit through the sauce splattered on your cheek. He chuckled lowly and you felt your face heating to a color that could probably rival the chunks of tomato that clung to your skin.

"Alastor," you began, attempting to keep your voice steady with tremendous effort, "how did that happen? It exploded out of nowhere."

"Well, I'd say you must've been stirring a little too vigorously, dear. I do admire the passion, though!"

He grinned at you wider and you squinted back.

"I wasn't stirring it. I just _looked_ at it."

"Hmm… Strange, indeed! But, no matter. We'll just have to start again, won't we?"

Alastor reached around you to turn off the heat and moved the now-empty pot from the burner, all while smirking mischievously. Your calm demeanor began to crack as you felt irritation coursing through you.

"No! L-look, I let it slide for the first couple weeks, but I feel like you're messing with me on purpose! And I just don't understand wh-"

You didn't get to finish as the kitchen door creaked open. Angel stepped into the room, clad in his fluffy pink loungewear and an unimpressed expression. His eyes were drawn to the mess that covered you and his face scrunched up.

"Yeesh. What kind of freaky shit are ya getting up to in here?" 

"N-nothing! It was an accident!" you retorted.

"Angel. I do believe we are in the middle of a lesson here. Is there a reason for this interruption?" Alastor's voice was relaxed, yet something in the tone of it made you shiver involuntarily. You glanced at him; it seemed his smile was strained.

If Angel noticed the tension, he didn't act like it. He just shrugged and leaned against the wall near the door, looking bored. "Yeah, the princess wanted me to find ya. Something about "important business," or whateva." Angel mimed the air quotes as he spoke, rolling his eyes. "Dunno why she's treating me like her personal errand boy."

"Well, I'm sure it can wait until we're done here."

"Eh, guess so." Angel shrugged again, but made no motion to leave.

"... Is that all?" Alastor was getting more impatient by the second. You could tell by the way the corners of his mouth tightened. But this wasn't your battle, so you remained quiet and took this opportunity to finish wiping the sauce off your face.

"Yep," Angel said, popping the 'p'. His gaze slid over to you. "So… what's cookin'?"

"Um, well, it was _supposed_ to be spaghetti."

You could clearly hear Alastor's static raise in volume, serving as a warning. He did not appreciate the spider's presence anymore. In response, Angel grinned, his golden tooth reflecting the light. 

… _Oh._ It dawned on you. Angel was doing this on purpose; he was _trying_ to annoy Alastor. You pressed your lips together to hide your smile, ready to push your luck.

"... Did you want to help?" you asked innocently.

Angel played along. "Ya know what? Why not."

You jumped when Alastor's arm wound around your shoulder. He pulled you towards him in a way that almost seemed… protective? Possessive? But no, that was a ridiculous thought — he most likely just wanted to finish torturing you in peace.

"No, no, that won't do at all. Don't you have your own work to attend to?"

Angel shook his head and sighed dramatically. "Nah, Val gave me the day off after yesterday. I mean, I can hardly walk today with how hard I was fu-" 

Alastor waved his hand, materializing his microphone and slamming it down onto the kitchen tile with a loud 'click', effectively silencing Angel. He seemed uncomfortable as he pulled away from you and dusted off his suit.

"Hah! Well then, perhaps I really should see what Charlotte needed." He looked at you, scanning your disheveled appearance. "Do you think you can handle the rest of dinner by yourself, my dear?"

"Oh. Uh, yeah, I think I'll be okay."

"Don't worry, Smiles. I can lend a few hands." Angel winked as he strode over to your side, winding a long arm around your shoulder where the Radio Demon's own had rested only moments before. You slyly smirked at him, thankful that he'd managed to convince Alastor to leave.

A sudden metallic screech made you flinch. 

It took only a second to realize it'd come from Alastor — the sound of feedback distinctly that of a radio — and you swiveled your head towards him.

His sharp golden teeth were clenched — still smiling, but barely. There was real disdain in the way he glared at Angel's arm around your shoulder. 

You swallowed nervously.

"Alastor…?"

And immediately, he was back to normal, darkness in his expression fading and replaced with something unreadable. You blinked in confusion at his mood swing.

"Good luck, darling," he simply replied, sparing one final stiff glance at the both of you. Then, he was gone.

You released the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding.

… What had all _that_ been about?

"Damn, babe. What'd ya do to get him all obsessed with ya like that? I've been tryin' since day one." 

"Wha-! Obsessed? More like obsessed with annoying me," you stammered. Angel released you to prop all four arms on his hips.

"Dunno. Never seen him cling on someone as much as he clings on to ya, toots."

"It's just because he's trying to break me, like it's some kind of sick, twisted game," you huffed. You grabbed the pot and moved to the sink to wash it.

"Well, ya do make it really easy. He never messes with me." Angel said. "Just gotta do what I did — flirt with him a few times an' he'll never bother ya again."

"Yeah, no. Not gonna happen, Angel." 

"Suit yourself," he quipped. You expected that to be it, but then you heard rustling from the fridge. When you turned he was approaching with a handful of fresh tomatoes.

"Oh… did you actually want to help?" You were surprised.

"Eh, why not. Looks like you could use it." Angel tried to act dismissive. You couldn't contain your smile at his obviously fake indifference, and he made a gagging face in your direction. "Ugh, stop looking at me like that. It's just 'cause there ain't anything better to do."

You didn't want to embarrass him any more than he already was, so you turned back towards the pot you were washing. For a demon who tried to act so aloof about others, you were beginning to see that he had a soft side too. 

"Okay. You know how to make spaghetti?"

"Toots, I'm Italian."

"Touché."

***

_Breathe in._

_Breathe out._

You pressed your palms to your closed eyes roughly, as if you could physically push the nightmare out of your mind.

_It wasn't real._

It was almost a routine now. You weren't sure why you were still so shaken up. Every night you woke from some sort of horrible nightmare that always featured your boyfriend. 

"He's _not_ your boyfriend anymore," you mumbled quietly in a weak attempt to reassure yourself. "All of that is behind you…"

The reoccurring nightmare had eventually shifted from the scene of your accident to something else; something repressed... Something that hurt to try and remember. A piercing scream, and a hallway… 

No. You couldn't do this right now. 

You were too exhausted from work and your lack of proper sleep for weeks now. You needed a distraction. Hesitantly, you reached for your book, unsure if it'd be a good idea to try to go outside and read considering who you ran into the last time.

But… that was only _one_ time… 

And it had been a couple weeks since then…

It was _extremely_ unlikely he'd be out there again.

You made up your mind.

Unfortunately, you were wrong.

You didn't even have to fully approach the door this time to hear the muffled cry of a violin. Your ears bobbed on your head. Perhaps you were finally getting used to your enhanced senses as a demon.

Normally, this would be where you'd give up, go back to your room, and just mope in bed for the night.

But tonight?

_Fuck it._

Maybe it was the exhaustion that was making you throw all caution to the wind, or maybe it was Angel's comment from earlier. He did have a point: you made it too easy for Alastor. And if you turned around now, you'd be letting him win again.

So, instead of doing what was sensible, you pulled open the balcony door with more force than was necessary.

Alastor didn't flinch, of course. He continued playing his violin as you marched out the door and plopped in the same seat you'd sat in last time.

"Alastor," you greeted curtly. His head turned to you curiously.

"Darling. And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Just reading," you replied, cracking open your book to the page you'd bookmarked.

You could feel Alastor scrutinizing you for a moment, but he said nothing for the time being. Thankfully, he allowed you to start reading in peace. 

It only took maybe an hour to tear through the rest of your book. The ending had been okay, you supposed. Maybe a bit too macabre, but you had a feeling all the novels published in Hell ended similarly. You snapped the cover shut and stretched a little in your seat.

"So, how was it?"

Alastor's voice nearly shocked you. You'd been so absorbed that you'd forgotten he was there despite the fact that he hadn't stopped playing soft background music the entire time.

"It was fine… Not my favorite," you finally admitted with a shrug.

"Ah, yes. That author's writing has never been to my taste. Perhaps I could bring you something new to read, if you'd like a recommendation?"

You raised a brow at his offer. "Uh… sure. Thanks?"

"Of course, dear." 

You really had no reason to be out here anymore after finishing your book, but you took a minute to appreciate Alastor's violin skills as you stared out at the garden. He held a long note with a beautiful vibrato that sent chills down your spine. It wasn't fair how talented he was.

You found your mouth opening to speak before your brain could catch up.

"So what, you were a rampant murderer but _still_ found the time to pick up the violin and master some Mozart?"

Alastor's bow stilled, cutting off in the middle of the note he'd been holding.

Realization of what you'd just said hit you and you gasped, apology on the tip of your tongue.

But then, Alastor laughed, loud and boisterous.

"I suppose you're right, dear. Except that was Tartini, not Mozart." His smile was bright as he lowered his violin to look at you.

Relief washed over you. He didn't seem angry. You should've shut your mouth and quit while you were ahead, but something about the relaxed atmosphere made you keep talking.

"That's not even fair, Al. Cooking _and_ music? I can't even tie my shoe without falling over."

"I've also been told I am quite skilled in dance." He winked at you and you shook your head defeatedly. "My mother wanted to raise me to be a well-rounded gentleman," he explained.

"I wish my parents pushed me to have more hobbies," you said wistfully. "All they cared about was for me to focus on studying and get a job that'd pay well."

"And did you?"

"No. Ended up moving away with, uh… someone," Alastor perked up in his seat, head tilting. You hurriedly continued before he could ask who. "...so I never went to university. I always wanted to, though. I wanted to study literature." You blushed, suddenly aware that you were blabbering about your life to the Radio Demon, and he was watching you attentively. "I, uh, know that probably sounds dumb."

"Not at all! Literature is quite possibly the most important invention by man, other than music."

"... Glad you think so, too."

You fell into an idle conversation with Alastor as you gazed out towards the deep wine-colored skyline. When he wasn't being a terrifying demon, you learned that he could be quite the chatterbox. Not that you were complaining. It was the perfect distraction from your nightmare and you were content to just listen.

And, since he wasn't trying on purpose to torment you, his cheesy jokes were actually kind of funny. Whenever he'd succeed in making you laugh, you could see his face light up proudly from your peripheral. 

You dared another brief peek at Alastor and watched the night breeze tousle his hair. His smile was the most gentle you'd seen it, and it was jarring. Why was he suddenly being so friendly to you?

_Well, might as well say it before you lose your nerve…_

"...Y-you seem very, uh… different tonight. It's been nice talking to you."

He stiffened and you regretted saying anything. Immediately, the gentle expression was erased, replaced with his usual eerie grin.

"I couldn't help but notice you already seemed distressed when you came out," Alastor said matter-of-factly. "There would've been no fun in bothering you any further."

You squinted. "Uh… thanks, I guess. I just couldn't sleep again."

"I see." 

He made no further remark, and the silence was filled with the shrill chirp of crickets. You felt a little self-conscious now that Alastor's guard was clearly back up, and you had no idea how to rekindle the easy atmosphere from before. With a sigh, you stood to leave.

"... But, I'm kinda tired now, so I should probably head back and try to get some rest…" you fidgeted with your book. 

"You may want to hurry, then. Only two hours until breakfast." Alastor replied coolly, picking up his violin to begin playing and dismissing you from the conversation.

"Right… See you soon."

"Good night, darling."

***

You exhaled, hand skimming along the wall in the hallway. The walk back to your room was long enough to think about that weird interaction.

Things had seemed to be going well until you ruined it. All you had said was that he was being nicer than usual, but maybe that was insulting for such a prolific demon…

Oh well.

You were drawing close to your room when suddenly your stomach clenched uncomfortably.

Something about this scene — a hallway, dimly lit — stirred a dark memory of your nightmare that you'd been trying so hard to forget.

You could practically see him now… the figure of your boyfriend — _not boyfriend anymore_ — rounding the corner, a dark liquid dripping from his hands.

You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling sick. You already knew how the rest of this would play out, and you refused to watch.

_It's not real._

_It's not real._

"Sweetie, is that you?"

… Why could you hear him?

_It's not real._

He called your name, and you choked on your breath. Your eyes were still closed, but the hallway was spinning.

"N-no… please…" 

You felt warm, damp fingertips brush against your arm and you yelped, stumbling back and landing on the carpet in a pathetic heap. The shock of the fall forced your eyes open.

You were alone.

The hall was normal... No spinning, no blood, and no figure approaching you.

Rationally, you knew that it had been all in your head, but you curled into a ball and sobbed anyway. You pressed a sleeve to your mouth to avoid waking anyone and let yourself cry there, shaking on the floor alone and repeating a mantra of reassurances in your head.

_It wasn't real._

_He wasn't there._

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading, I really appreciate it! ;v;
> 
> Oh, also! I don't know if anyone noticed, but I went back over some of the older chapters and made a couple small changes -- nothing major, just fixed a few things. But I figured I should probably mention it just in case!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://bunniei.tumblr.com/)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! It’s been a while!
> 
> I’m so sorry for how long I’ve been gone... I can’t really give a full explanation right now, but basically some really difficult personal things happened since the last update (on top of everything else going on in the world) and I was completely unmotivated to do anything for a long while.
> 
> The good news is, I’m feeling a lot better now and I’m excited to get back to working on this fic! Thanks to everyone who has left comments/kudos, y’all really helped motivate me to work on this story again and also just brightened my day in general when I saw notifications in my inbox! ;_;
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter! ♡

  


You hated yourself.

It's not like you _meant_ for this to happen. You really couldn't be blamed.

If you'd asked yourself even just a few days ago, you wouldn't have believed it.

Yet… here you were.

You really didn't mean to get attached to your late night balcony hangouts with Alastor, but you couldn't help it… Especially not when he started bringing you new books to read, true to his word.

Honestly, you hadn't been expecting him to actually follow through, figuring it was just a hollow promise. But when you showed up the next night — only because you couldn't sleep again, definitely _not_ because you wanted to talk to him — there was a new book placed innocently in your seat. When you'd glanced at him in disbelief, Alastor had just grinned slyly at you from over the top of his violin. 

You knew you were doomed after finishing the first book he brought you. Already, it was so much better than anything you'd found in the hotel's library, and when you returned a week later, you were shocked to find he'd brought yet _another_ new book for you to read.

So, you decided it wasn't your fault that you spent so much time with him on the balcony. He was tempting you with free books.

And, well… not that you'd admit it, but somehow you'd grown to really appreciate your nightly conversations. He seemed like a different demon entirely when the rest of the hotel was sleeping. You were so stressed during your shifts cooking with Alastor, yet you secretly enjoyed his company afterwards. What was wrong with you?

You stopped questioning it eventually.

These were some of the few peaceful moments you'd been granted thus far in Hell, and although it was taking a toll on your sleep schedule, it was something to look forward to.

He didn't always bring his violin — sometimes he'd also bring a book for himself and you'd both read in an amicable silence; other times he'd bring hotel paperwork to fill out. No matter what though, he was out on the balcony every time you were. 

It wasn't friendship. You wouldn't even say you were acquaintances.

But… it was something.

And as Alastor began to hum cheerfully from his corner of the balcony, you couldn't contain your tiny, private smile.

Maybe everything really would be okay.

  


***

  


You changed your mind.

Things were not okay. 

Especially not when Alastor had been waiting for you with a full deer carcass when you had come down for your dinner shift the next evening.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

Gasping, you hurriedly turned away from the poor creature he had dragged in. "Alastor… please tell me that you understand how fucked up this is," you squeaked, gesturing at your antlers.

Alastor laughed. "Not at all, my _deer,_ " he teased, the inflection of his voice alerting you to his awful pun. "Think of this as a new challenge! You may be improving — albeit very, very slowly — but you still have so many skills to learn. And nothing can compare to the taste of fresh venison!"

You shook your head frantically. "There is no way I can do this. Even thinking about it is making me nauseous…" 

"Hmm, strange… I wouldn't think you to be so squeamish after all of your previous 'sinning and whatnot' you mentioned to me before," Alastor chuckled, calling you out on your earlier bluff. You flushed, remembering that _yes_ , that dumb comment really was something you'd said to him. 

"I… that was different…" you protested weakly.

"Nonsense, darling," he smiled at you and led you back towards the carcass. "Don't worry, this will simply be an informative lesson to expand your culinary horizons." 

Whatever retort you had prepared to say died on your tongue as you stared down at the dead deer in front of you. The scene was gruesome — it looked as if it'd been killed with a set of claws instead of a gunshot. Streaks of dried blood coated its pelt, matting its fur down and outlining the gnarly slices in its skin. If Alastor hadn't been rooting you in place with his hands on your shoulders, your legs might have given in.

_No, no, no, no…_

You were reminded of the deer from your reoccuring nightmares… You imagined its eyes opening, radio dials, blood… you remembered the hallucination from the hallway… 

You felt dizzy.

Only when you managed to tear your eyes away did you register that Alastor had been speaking.

"... then, after we finish skinning it, we must-"

"A-Alastor!" you interrupted desperately, ducking out of his grasp and away from the deer carcass.

"...Yes?" By the strain of his smile, he didn't seem particularly happy about you cutting him off.

"I'm…" you could feel your heartbeat thumping wildly in your chest and you struggled to form a sentence. "Is it… W-would it be okay if I took tonight off? Please… I-I'm not feeling well…" Your vision was quickly flooding as tears threatened to spill over, but you tried to hold them back in an attempt to not completely humiliate yourself in front of your boss.

Alastor stood silent, staring eerily into your watery eyes. You clenched your teeth shut to hide your quivering jaw.

"Hmm... You seemed fine merely moments ago."

"I-I'm sorry, I just-"

"Now, now," Alastor tutted at you. You shut your mouth and realized there was wetness running down your cheeks. 

Great, having a panic attack _and_ crying in front of the Radio Demon. _Perfect._

Unlike usual however, he didn't immediately chide you and force you to get back to work. Instead, his eyes darted between the carcass behind you and your face, looking almost… uncomfortable? 

Knitting his brows, he finally sighed and shook his head.

"I suppose if you must, then you can take tonight off. However, this is a one-time deal. We can't make a habit of you slacking off like some of our other residents."

Your brows shot up. _What?_ He wasn't going to use this opportunity to torment you more? ...But you didn't really have time to wonder about how strange Alastor was behaving. The rusty scent of blood still permeated the air and your stomach was churning — you needed to get out of here fast.

"A-ah, thank you," you managed to choke out. You turned to leave without looking up, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. 

You didn't get very far though, as suddenly his hand was wrapped around your wrist.

"Wait, darling."

Frustration welled up in your chest. He'd probably already changed his mind, or maybe he had just been messing with you when he said you could leave as some kind of sick joke.

But you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts when he tugged you closer, spinning you towards him. His grin seemed more subdued than usual, and you blinked up at him owlishy as he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and lightly dabbed at your face. Gently, he swept a thumb across your cheek to catch a loose tear and his hand came to a momentary rest along the curve of your jaw. His dangerous nails were careful as they rested against the delicate skin of your neck.

The light tickle of his nails is what finally broke you from your stupor, and you realized how intimate this position was.

"A-Al…?" You tried meekly. You idly wondered if he could feel the way your pulse was racing beneath his fingertips.

As if just realizing it himself, he abruptly pulled away and cleared his throat. Your mind was reeling… What had just happened?

"Apologies, dear," Alastor began, neatly folding the handkerchief. "As I was saying, you may take today to rest, but I expect to see you back bright and early tomorrow." He reached out and pressed the handkerchief into your palm, and quickly dismissed you by steering you out the kitchen door, leaving you alone in the lobby with so many unanswered questions but no energy to go back in and ask them.

Instead, you walked to your room in silence, dumbfounded by the events of the evening. Your stomach twisted itself in knots, but you couldn't tell if it was from the lingering scent of blood or from the memory of Alastor's thumb brushing across your cheek... Your heart skipped a beat and you looked down at the handkerchief he'd given you, as if the small piece of fabric could offer you some kind of explanation.

Nothing made sense anymore, but maybe a hot bath would help you think more clearly.

  


***

  


Alastor set about carving into the deer with perhaps a little more force than was necessary. It was the only way he could distract himself from the complicated… _situation_ he had experienced earlier.

Typically, he revelled in the look of terror on his victim's faces. The only thing he enjoyed more than watching them cry and beg was the sweet sound of their screams as he tore them apart. Yet… the way you had looked at him, eyes brimming with tears and lip trembling… 

Alastor slammed the butcher's knife through the meat, covering the surface of the large counter with a satisfying blood spatter. It didn't matter, he could snap and have it all cleaned in an instant.

He had more important things to ponder at the moment, the most important of those things being a single question: why had he done that?

He honestly had no idea why he'd reacted that way to you crying. It was as if the logical part of his mind had shut off, and suddenly he'd let his guard down. He would have to be more careful around you… He has a reputation to uphold, after all.

But as he hacked away at the venison, losing himself in the rhythmic sound of his blade carving through flesh, he couldn't help but remember how small and fragile you'd felt in his grip, and the pretty way your blood had flushed your cheeks as you stared up at him… 

When he finally snapped to, the deer was nearly an unusable pulp. There was still enough to be salvaged for dinner, however the majority of it would have to be thrown out.

"Hm, what a waste," Alastor sighed.

He set the knife down, and with a shake of his head, he took a step back to observe the mess he'd created.

  



End file.
